It's Not Completely Out of the Question
by crakels
Summary: When Castiel is once again caught alone by Michael, a relentless bully, he wonders if this will be the last hit he'll ever feel. That is until someone he doesn't expect shows up to save not only the day, but his whole life really...highschool AU


Michael's heavy steps filled the hallway, the buckles on his big, black, thick soled boots jiggling. His long legs allowed him to swiftly catch up to the lanky boy running away from him. His face contorted into an ominous smirk.

"I'm sorry, just where do you think you're going?" His voice taking on his notorious tone of wickedness that sent chills down the smaller boy's spine.

Michael reached out and grabbed at his collar, pulling him back with a violent tug. "C'mon Castiel, why ya' runnin'? You know it's completely pointless. Your scrawny legs can only get you so far. In the end you always get what's comin' to ya'…"

Castiel was deadly still in the grasp of his attacker and held his breath, hanging onto a prayer that someone, _anyone_ would show up. Just then a teacher turned the corner. Was this help? Michael seemed to notice as well and effortlessly released his death grip on Castiel's shirt, turning to flash the teacher an innocent smile.

"What are you guys still doing here?" the teacher asked, and Castiel didn't know whether to run away at this given moment or speak up for help. Either way, if he didn't get a beating now, he'd get one later.

"I-I…-" Castiel tried to speak, but Michael cut in, not about to let Castiel get him into trouble.

"We're just getting out from the library. Got a big English project due…" Michael smiled; recognizing Castiel's terrified face that suggested he was going to try and run. He reached over and roughly patted Castiel on the shoulder, and kept his hand there to make sure he wouldn't run away.

This behavior was seemingly benign to the passing adult, and he went on his way without a second thought.

Michael snapped his vision back to Castiel, a scolding look plastering itself upon his face. Castiel looked back with pure trepidation. "What the hell was that?" Michael pulled Castiel up by the collar of his shirt, lifting him off the ground. "Were you trying to get me into trouble?!" His anger spilled over in the form of a punch right on Castiel's left cheek, sending him falling to the floor.

"Try and tell on me? Who the hell do you think you are? You're such a weakling. C'mon! Get up! What are you just going to stay there on the floor? Get up and defend yourself for once, you _freak_!" Michael shouted the insults as he reached down to pull Castiel back up.

Castiel's blue eyes filled with fear; his left eye was already swelling. He looked like a complete mess.

"Pathetic. You can't even answer me. You are such a waste of space." Michael started pushing Castiel. "So freaking pathetic, you just take up people's time. Something should be done, in fact, why don't I rectify the situation?" His words practically dripped with malicious intent.

This sent true fear into Castiel's very core, bringing on ponderous feelings that were taking a toll on his entire being.

He let out a breath and promised himself that if he made it out of this alive, he'd never let himself get caught alone with Michael again.

Michael then landed another blow onto Castiel's face, then another onto his stomach, and another and another, and then just committed to pounding on every part of Castiel's smaller body. He hit Castiel until he fell to the floor. Then he kicked Castiel until he was curled up, coughing up blood, and when it looked like he had maybe passed out, Michael stopped only to pull Castiel back up onto his feet.

"Oh no, you don't get to pass out. I want you to stay awake. Feel every single hit. This is the beating you get for being such a disgusting freak." Michael spoke his venomous words, and he kept Castiel from slumping over.

Poor Castiel could barely keep his head up let alone his whole body. His face had all swollen up from the punches. He was pretty sure he'd heard some ribs crack, and by the searing agony in his left arm, he was pretty sure it was completely shattered.

Michael continued on with his monologue as to why exactly Castiel deserved this beating and how much he sickened and repulsed him. Castiel was struggling to keep conscience and only made out a few words having to do with being a _'faggot'_ and _'sinner'_.

Michael wasn't exactly a pietistic church-going-fellow, but one thing he completely agreed on with the church, was that being a homosexual was repulsive and all those who were should be and are damned. He also felt that before God would get his chance to judge, he'd let himself land in a few hits here and there, where ever he could; mostly focusing his bigotry on Castiel, since he was one of only two openly gay students.

Then as a sort of last glimpse of the sight before him, he saw Michael give him a hideously wicked grin, pulling back his closed fist. Castiel thought for a moment, _would this be the last hit?_

Castiel felt unable to keep himself from falling into the abyss of thoughts based on how wonderful it would be if this did end up being the very last hit he'd ever have to take.

Just as he closed his eyes, ready to take the hit, he felt the weight of Michael's hold on him lift and he heard the very familiar and distinct sound of a fist connecting with someone's face.

He opened his eyes as much as he could, and saw that Michael had be thrown and punched by tall figure he immediately recognized as none other than Dean Winchester.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" His deep voice ringing in the hallway. Michael got up, wiping the blood drops from the corner of his mouth.

"_Winchester_." He snorted. "What, you standing up for your _boyfriend_ or something? What makes you think I won't beat your pansy ass as well?" Michael stood up all the way, stepping closer attempting to intimidate Dean.

It didn't work, but his snide remark made Dean furrow his brow.

"_Oh yeah_?" Dean responded, dropping his baseball duffle bag to the floor. "Then why don't you _show_ me, tough guy? You sure you're not too much of a homophobe to fight me? Or maybe it you're just scared because you know I can beat you."

Castiel had slide down the side of the lockers, amazed that anyone had cared enough to intervene, let alone it be Dean Winchester. It had seemed to Castiel that no matter how many adults he told, his inviolability would never really concern them. Not even in moments where he was clearly in distress.

But here he was, being defended by Dean Winchester, star of the baseball team, total jock, popular with everyone, all the girls loved him, and all the guys wanted to be him. Dean just jumped in, not caring what would or could happen.

Michael simply scowled at Dean. He knew he wouldn't be able to fight him; Dean was just a better fighter, mainly because he came from a tough background and knew how to throw down.

Michael scoffed before he spoke. "Ya know, Dean. You used to be a good guy. You had it all. I don't understand how you could through it away the way you did. What for? Was it for…was it for this freak..?" Michael seemed to have a hard time even suggesting that they had a romantic relationship. He however had no issue pointing an accusing finger as Castiel's beaten down form on the ground, spitting out 'freak' for the millionth time that afternoon.

"I mean what, is he actually your boyfriend or something?" Michael said in a genuinely confused tone.

Dean glanced down at Castiel, his green eyes meeting swollen blue ones, and then he looked back at Michael. "And so what if he is? What are _you_ going to do?"

Michael was taken aback, disgust written all over his face. He swallowed hard, "…Next time, Winchester. _Next time_. And you better watch your back too, Castiel. I'm not done with you either." He turned and walked away down the hall. His words hung heavy in the air for Castiel, and he let out a deep breath.

Before he could lift himself up, Castiel felt a hand on his shoulder, and a voice to his left.

"Hey man, are you ok? Did he hurt you? Dude, look at your face…you're all bruised. Gees, we gotta get you to a doctor…Can you walk?" Dean's voice softened, doing a complete 180 changing from the gruff and edgy tone he had used before with Michael, to gentle and concerned.

"I…y-yeah, I think I can walk…but, I'm fine, I don't need a doctor. Really, I'm fine. It's ok; you don't have to help me." Castiel's words came out in a languid fashion as he tried not to make eye contact and made an effort to get up on his own, but winced when his ribs reminded him that they were in fact broken.

Taken aback by the sudden distance Castiel was showing, Dean tried again, "Hey, c'mon…Let me at least take you home, you can't possible walk home like that." Dean tired his best to be of some solace after he realized that Castiel probably wasn't used to anyone showing him kindness.

"How long has Michael been giving you problems?" This time when he reached to help Castiel stand up, he didn't let him pull away.

Castiel got to his feet, but then nearly fell down again before Dean caught him. "Let me help you." Dean held Castiel up from the waist, as Castiel reluctantly put his arm on Dean's shoulders for support.

"Gees, with the way Michael acts I have to wonder if he isn't gay himself. What with him being in a full bodily contact sport such as wrestling? Seriously, what's gayer than that?" Dean tried to lighten the mood with jokes and offers to treat Castiel to a burger, but his jocularity went unnoticed and only seemed to put Castiel off more so.

As they walked down the hall, Castiel remained quiet. He only winced every once and a while when the pain was too much to ignore.

"Since middle school." Castiel spoke up once they had cleared the building and where now outside heading towards Dean '67 Chevy Impala. However great of a guy Dean was in school, the law on the other hand wasn't so fond of him. He was infamous for speeding tickets all over town. He was a speed demon for sure, which if Castiel thought about it, made him a little more nervous to get into the car.

"…what?" Dean asked, confused. He looked at Castiel, giving him his full attention.

"You asked how long Michael has been giving me trouble. Since middle school. He'd never liked before, but when I came out in 8th grade, his superfluous hatred just increased. It started with name calling, then he started pushing me around, and I wen t for help, but no one ever saw him doing any of this, so he never got in trouble. Especially since he was on all those sport teams, with you. It just seems like all you popular guys just get to get away with everything." By this time, they'd reached Dean's car, and now Castiel was painfully leaning on the side of the car as Dean listened, opening the door.

Dean was momentarily offended by Castiel's point to make sure he knew that Castiel grouped him with the likes of Michael, but then realized something. Castiel was perfectly right. Despite the fact that Dean was gay, no one gave him crap about it. Not like they did with Castiel. He'd know, because this isn't the first time he's seen or known about the bullying. But honest to god, he never knew it was this bad.

Before he'd thought that it was just name calling, and maybe Castiel needed to toughen up because that's life, right? When he first came out, not everyone was happy, but he'd already been a star at many things. He was athletic, good with cars, a hit with the girls (even if he wasn't interested). Most people over looked it because they knew him as more than just some gay kid.

Not with Castiel. Dean knew of Castiel as the short kid that liked to read books more than play kickball. It didn't bother him, but he saw how the other kids stayed away from him. That was in elementary school, how much worse was it now in high school?

God, had Dean known what he was doing by _not_ doing anything, he _would've_ done something. He had no idea that Castiel was so estranged from all his peers. This was the turning point for Dean; he was expiating his former actions starting now.

"You're right. And I'm sorry. I know we aren't friends, you don't know me, probably don't want to know me, but just know that I'm sorry." Dean looked up at Castiel. "I'm sorry that everyone mistreats you. And I'm sorrier that no one, not even I, did anything to stop it." Dean was determined to try and abate any and all feelings of isolation that Castiel had. He wanted to make sure that Castiel never went through this again.

When Castiel looked into Dean's eyes, he was looking for a flicker of deceit, but found none. He knew he couldn't just immediately trust Dean, but part of him felt the true import of what Dean was saying, and he was truly thankful that anyone would take the time to say something like that. Why say it if you didn't mean it?

As Dean helped Castiel into his car, he gently closed the door and got into the drivers' side. And when he looked over at Castiel, he was struck with the most scintillate smile he'd ever seen. Despite the fact that Castiel was all bloodied and bruised, this kid had a smile like no other.

Dean simply smiled back, and they both decided that a burger before heading home wasn't _completely_ out of the question.

In the coming months after their first official introduction, their friendship developed into a strong one, based on mutual likes and interests. Dean definitely made sure that all pervious indefatigably malicious behavior towards Castiel stopped. Of course it goes without saying that their lives were so inextricable, sometimes it seemed as though they many people gossiped that they were in fact a couple because they were both gay. This was of course untrue.

Some people believed it to be false because Castiel and Dean both had said they were currently single, and other people believed they weren't a couple based on the incongruity of their personalities. Other parties, including Michael and his posse, believed they were a couple, despite what anyone said.

Of course, this is not to say that the relationship was _completely _out of the question.


End file.
